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Bow thee, Andrew, bend thine sturdy knees ;
Seest thou not here thine only God on earth ?

[Exit the King. Jaq. Mais ou est mon argent, seigneur ?

Ateu. Come, follow me. His grave, I see, is made, That thus on sudden he hath left us here. Come, Jaques : we will have our packet soon disAnd you shall be my mate upon the way. (patch’d, JAQ. Comme vous plaira, monsieur.

[Exeunt Ateukin and Jaques. And. Was never such a world, I think, before, When sinners seem to dance within a net: The flatterer and the murderer, they grow big; By hook or crook promotion now is sought. In such a world, where men are so misled, What should I do, but, as the proverb saith, Run with the hare, and hunt with the hound? To have two means, beseems a witty man. Now here in court I may aspire and climb By subtlety, for* my master's death : And if that fail, well fare another drift ; I will, in secret, certain letters send Unto the English king, and let him know The order of his daughter's overthrow, That if my master crack his credit here, As I am sure long flattery cannot hold, I may have means within the English court To 'scape the scourge that waits on bad advice.

[Exit. Chorus. Enter Bohan and OBERON. Ober. Believe me, bonny Scot, these strange events Are passing pleasing, may they end as well.

Boh. Else say that Bohan hath a barren skull, If better motions yet than any past.

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Do not more glee to make the fairy greet.
But my small son made pretty handsome shift
To save the queen, his mistress, by his speed.

Ober. Yea, [and] yon laddy,* for the sport he made,
Shall see, when least he hopes, I'll stand his friend,
Or else he capers in a halter's end.

Boh. What, hang my son ! I trow not, Oberon : I'll rather die than see him woe-begone.

Enter a round, or some dance at pleasure. Ober. Bohan, be pleas'd, for do they what they Here is my hand, I'll save thy son from ill. [will,

[Exeunt.
Act V.
Enter [DOROTHEA) the Queen in a night-gown,

LADY ANDERSON, and Nano [and Sir Cuth-
BERT ANDERSON, behind.]

Lady An. My gentle friend, beware, in taking air,
Your walks grow not offensive to your wounds.

Dor. Madam, I thank you of your courteous care : My wounds are well nigh clos'd, though sore they are. Lady An. Methinks these closed wounds should

breed more grief, Since open wounds have cure, and find relief.

Dor. Madam, if undiscover'd wounds you mean, They are not cur'd, because they are not seen. LADY An. I mean the wounds which do the heart

subdue. NANO. O, that is love: Madam, speak I not true?

[Lady Anderson overhears. Lady An. Say it were true, what salve for such a sore?

[door. Nano. Be wise, and shut such neighbours out of

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LADY An. How if I cannot drive him from my

breast? Nano. Then chain him well, and let him do his best.

Sir Cuth. In ripping up their wounds, I see their But if these wounds be cur’d, I sorrow it. [wit;

Dor. Why are you so intentive to behold My pale and woeful looks, by care controllid?

LADY An. Because in them a ready way is found To cure my care and heal my hidden wound.

Nano. Good master, shut your eyes, keep that Surgeons give coin to get a good receipt. [conceit;

Dor. Peace, wanton son; this lady did amend My wounds; mine eyes her hidden grief shall end : Look not too much, it is a weighty case.

Nano. Whereas a man puts on a maiden's face, For many times, if ladies 'ware them not, A nine months wound with little work is got. Sir Cuth. I'll break off their dispute, lest love

proceed From covert smiles to perfect love indeed.

Nano. The cat's abroad, stir not, the mice be still. LADY An. Tut, we can fly such cats, when so

[shall default, Sir Cuth. How fares my guest ? take cheer, nought That either doth concern your health or joy: Use me, my house; and what is mine is yours.

Dor. Thanks, gentle knight, and if all hopes be I hope ere long, to do as much for you. [true, SIR Cuth. Your virtue doth acquit me of that

doubt : But, courteous sir, since troubles call* me hence, I must to Edinburgh, unto the king, There to take charge and wait him in his wars. Meanwhile, good madam, take this squire in charge, And use him so as if it were myself.

* call] The 4to. “ calles.

we will.

LADY An. Sir Cuthbert, doubt not of my diligence:
Meanwhile, till your return, God send you health.

Dor. God bless his Grace, and if his cause be just,
Prosper his wars; if not, he'll mend, I trust.
Good sir, what moves the king to fall to arms?

Sir Cuth. The king of England forageth his land,
And hath besieg’d Dunbar* with mighty force.
What other news are common in the court,
Read you these letters, madam, tell the squire
The whole affairs of state, for I must hence.
Dor. God prosper you, and bring you back from

thence. [Exit Sir Cuthbert Anderson. Madam, what news?

LADY AN. They say the queen is slain.
Dor. Tut, such reports more false than truth contain.
LADY An. But these reports have made his nobles
leave him.

[him? Dor. Ah, careless men, and would they so deceive LADY An. The land is spoil'd, the commons fear

the cross; All cry against the king, their cause of loss : The English king subdues and conquers all.

Dor. Alas, this war grows great on causes small !

Lady An. Our court is desolate, our prince alone, Still dreading death.

Dor. Woes me, for him I moan!
Help, now help, a sudden qualm
Assails my heart!

Nano. Good madam, stand her friend :
Give us some liquor to refresh her heart.
LADY An. Dawt thou her up, and I will fetch

thee forth
Potions of comfort, to repress her pain. , [Exit.

incoluc-:. * Dunbar] The 4to: - Dambar »

+ daw) i.e. revive, resuscitate-still used in the mouth of endly and land.

still thinks her a man Nano. Fie, princess, faint on every fond report ! How well nigh had you open'd your estate ! Cover these sorrows with the veil of joy, And hope the best; for why, this war will cause A great repentance in your husband's mind.

Dor. Ah, Nano, trees live not without their sap, And Clytie cannot blush but on the sun; The thirsty earth is broke with many a gap, And lands are lean, where rivers do not run : Where soul is reft from that it loveth best, How can it thrive or boast of quiet rest? Thou know'st the prince's loss must be my death, His grief, my grief; his mischief must be mine. 0, if thou love me, Nano, hie to court! Tell Ross, tell Bartram, that I am alive; Conceal thou yet the place of my abode : Will them, even as they love their queen, As they are chary of my soul and joy, To guard the king, to serve him as my lord. Haste thee, good Nano, for my husband's care Consumeth me, and wounds me to the heart. Nano. Madam, I go, yet loath to leave you here. Dor. Go thou with speed : even as thou hold'st

me dear, Return in haste.

[Exit Nano. Enter Lady Anderson. Lady An. Now, sir, what cheer? come taste the

broth I bring. Dor. My grief is past, I feel no further sting. LADY AN. Where is your dwarf? why hath he left

you, sir? Dor. For some affairs : he is not travelled far. Lady An. If so you please, come in and take your

rest. Dor. Fear keeps awake a discontented breast.

Exeunt.

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